Title: Play with Fire
By: Jessica
Pairing: Kensi/Deeks
Rating: Light M
Timeline: Post 5x09: Recovery
Summary: She doesn't want him to say what he means tonight. She wants him to do it. Tonight, she wants to burn.

A/N: If this had been posted before 5x10 aired, as was the original plan, well, y'all would have killed me. Lucky for you, the events of The Frozen Lake inspired a rewrite so... Enjoy. Perhaps. ;)

Her heart was pounding as she stood slowly from her seat, her smoldering gaze not once wandering from her partner's.

That's nothing, though, compared to how it hammered against the wall of her chest as they made the almost excruciatingly long drive to his place. Radio off, the only sounds had been the engine and the unsteady cadence of their breathing as the air between them began to thicken with tension with every traveled mile.

But it all pales in comparison to the ache in Kensi's chest as she steps across the threshold into his darkened apartment, her heart racing so quickly, so painfully that she thinks it might literally explode. The hand she feels briefly at the small of her back doesn't help matters; if anything, it merely ratchets her pulse up even further, his touch plaguing her imagination with thoughts of those hands on heated, bare skin, revealed to him for the first time.

Kensi can't help it – she shivers deeply at the thought.

She keeps her back to him as he closes the door, the sound of the deadbolt and the chain reaching her ears. It's then that it hits her – she's as much locked in as the rest of the world is locked out. She thinks that should scare her…and it does.

But it thrills her more. There's no one else here but them – Kensi Blye and Marty Deeks. Nothing between them but heat and tension, electricity and desire, sparks that could ignite at any moment, starting a wildfire she knows will consume the both of them.

She swallows hard as she feels him approach her, his presence strong and masculine at her back. Her eyes close as his fingertips ghost along her hips – it's innocent, yet entirely the opposite at the same time. Innocent or not though, it quickly becomes too much and Kensi digs her teeth into her lower lip, trying desperately to control her breathing, the beat of her heart.

After a moment, she's the first to break the heavy silence. "Should we, uh…maybe – maybe we should – a drink? Or maybe –"

"Kens." The low rumble of her name feels impossibly close to her ears and Kensi can't help but gasp quietly. She feels his breath on her skin, just behind her ear and when it's replaced with the sultry press of his lips, she can't help but feel her knees weaken. An utterly ridiculous reaction to him, she thinks, but that makes no difference in the end.

Deeks closes his eyes, ducking his head to the crook of her neck. For a long moment, he simply breathes her in, nuzzling gently into her hair. Her scent intoxicates him, and oh, the image that fills his thoughts makes his heart utterly ache for her, because the very idea of waking up with her, dark tresses spread over soft cotton pillows, those soft piglet snores that he'd once teased her about filling his ears…God, he's in trouble here.

He doesn't think he's ever wanted anyone as badly as he wants her.

And the fact that she's here, that this…this could actually be happening…it's simply beyond comprehension. He knows he's never in his life done anything to deserve this and he's certain that he'll spend the rest of his life trying to pay back his debt. He's not thinking about the rest of his life right now, though. No, right now, all he's thinking about is this. This moment. Him and her. Them.

He whispers her name again as he takes a step back, immediately missing the feel of her back pressed against his chest, the softness of her hair against his cheek. The only illumination comes from the streetlight outside; distorted by the window, it casts heavy shadows in the darkness, and Deeks can't be entirely sure but he thinks he sees Kensi waver just slightly.

His sudden absence from her personal space chills her; just seconds before, she'd felt ready to melt right into his arms. Confusion clouding her mind, Kensi takes a deep breath and slowly turns, facing him for the first time since he'd closed the door. "Deeks…"

"You didn't come home with me because you wanted a drink," he whispers in reply to her earlier half-suggestion.

She makes the mistake of meeting his gaze – it's a mistake, because she can't look away. It's a mistake because what she sees there is enough to shatter all the reasons why this shouldn't happen tonight. His eyes are dark, cobalt with desire, the same desire that's churning deep inside of her, a desire that's been brewing and growing for three long years. It scares her, because it makes her want to be reckless.

She wants to be as reckless tonight as he'd been when he'd bought that motorcycle, when he'd jumped in front of a moving vehicle with his gun outstretched. She wants to feel alive, but instead of feeling the wind rushing through his hair, she wants his hands in her hair, his mouth on hers, his hard body pressing her to the bed. She doesn't want him to say what he means tonight.

She wants him to do it.

God, she wants him.

Kensi exhales deeply, taking a step closer to him. She's right in front of him again; she can feel the heat of his body and the lust radiating off of him; lust tinged by something deeper, something she feels but refuses to name because naming it is just simply not an option. The scent of him surrounds her, filling her lungs instead of the oxygen she needs; it dizzies her, and it's all she can do not to lay a palm on his hip to balance herself.

Did she know what she was getting into when she stood from the table, silently beckoning him to follow? She's been here a thousand times it seems. A thousand times where they've shared takeout and a few beers on his couch. A thousand times where they've flipped through the channels, finally settling on a football game or an old movie or some reality show that Deeks couldn't believe existed. A thousand times she's dozed off with him, only to wake up hours later, maybe in the middle of the night or in the dawn sunlight with his arms around her, her body curled snugly into his.

She could try to play dumb, try to believe that she'd been expecting that instead.

Another night, she probably would.

Not tonight.

Pursing her lips momentarily, Kensi meets the silent challenge in her partner's eyes with one of her own. "No," she answers, just the slightest waver in her voice. "No, I didn't."

"And I didn't bring you here for a drink," he breathes.

It's in his eyes, the undeniable reason why he did bring her there. She doesn't need to ask. But Kensi Blye plays with fire…and tonight, she wants to burn. God, how she wants to burn. "Then why did you bring me here?" she whispers.

He growls quietly, closing his fingers around her wrist. Without another word, Deeks pulls her against him, whispering her name before his lips find hers for the first time in over six months, and if that's not answer enough for her query, Deeks doesn't know what is.

He can't think about it anymore right now anyway.

The intensity of his kiss takes Kensi entirely by storm, leaving her unable to do anything but go along with him. It's not like their first kiss, quick and tame, necessitated by the cover they kept. It's not like their second kiss (their first real kiss), laced with frustration and anger, desperation.

No. This is different. This is filled with heat and desire, lusty hunger. And this time, there's nowhere for Kensi to run. She's captive, body and soul; she'd run from him six months ago, but tonight…tonight, she wants to dive deeper. She wants to go farther.

She wants to make that leap and never, ever look back. She's lost, utterly and completely; powerless to stop what's to come (and honestly, there's not a part of her that wants to stop this). She kisses him hungrily, fisting her hands in the material of his shirt and trying to pull him closer, surrendering to the fiery desire inside of her.

It's almost too much too fast, but at the same time, it's nowhere near enough. Kensi's lips part for him as he deepens the kiss, and she can't help but moan. He's got a hand in her hair, tangling in the strands and the throbbing, heated need in her belly becomes too insistent to ignore.

She wants him.

Now.

Kensi whimpers softly as her back hits the wall – she hadn't realized he was moving her; she'd written it off as dizziness, this haze he's got her lost in. Her mouth is locked tightly with his, and God, she thinks she's never been kissed quite like this before – if not for the wall behind her and his steady body before her, Kensi knows she'd tumble to the ground.

Before she even realizes it, he's got half the buttons of her shirt undone, revealing flushed skin and the fabric of her bra to him, and that's when he tears his mouth away from hers, only to pepper kisses down her jaw and toward her throat. Kensi leans her head back, breathing hard, her eyes closing as his mouth moves lower and somehow, he immediately finds the one spot on her neck that has her squirming and gasping his name.

She's sure she should be doing something with her hands, but God, he's so good at distracting her. Kisses, gentle nips, the scratch of his scruff against her skin…it blinds her, leaving her unable to do much more than moan and squirm against him and then suddenly, before she even realizes it, he's pushing her shirt from her shoulders, letting it fall forgotten to the floor below. "God, you're beautiful," he breathes as he pulls back, his eyes raking over her.

Kensi shivers, tucking her fingertips in his belt and pulling him against her again. He groans as his mouth meets hers again; it's a sound that goes straight to the pit of her belly and this time, Kensi's hands aren't idle. She wants to feel his skin against hers, now.

Her fingers tremble as she starts to work the buttons of his shirt (it's almost a shame, she thinks briefly, because he'd looked so entirely delicious sitting across from her at dinner in that shirt…); he does his very best to break her concentration, pressing her to the wall with his hips, his fingertips tracing the cup of her bra, his touch like fire even through the material. And then, finally she feels the heat of his chest against hers, the strength of his toned body against hers and she shoves his button-down off of him, the depths of her desperation clawing quickly to the surface.

She wants those jeans off of him now but before she even gets the chance, she feels his hands skate down her bare back and over her hips, coming to rest at her backside. Even through the heavy denim, his touch electrifies her; she can't get enough. There's no time to linger on that though; with a low growl, Deeks lifts her easily off the ground, drawing a gasp of surprise from her parted lips. Her legs wrap around his waist almost of their own accord and if the look of desire in his eyes earlier wasn't enough, the smoldering need in his ocean blues now turns her to jelly in his arms. "Deeks…"

"Not here," he growls. "You. In my bed."

It's quite possibly the hottest thing Kensi has ever heard. She threads her fingers in his hair as she kisses him, and then they're moving to the one part of his apartment she's never seen. The thought makes her shiver in his arms and God, can't he move faster?

She feels the fire begin to consume her as her back hits the sheets, as he hovers above her, as his mouth claims hers in a hungry kiss. Gripping his biceps, for a moment she wants to take control; wants to be the one hovering above him, driving him crazy with lust. She wants to be the one to reduce him to a trembling, pleading mess but then her brain short-circuits, her imagination filled with blinding, white light as Deeks presses his hips roughly into hers. Kensi gasps, her entire body quivering as she arches toward him, wanting more, more, more, breathing his name against his lips. "Marty…"

His mouth curves in a grin as he kisses his way from her mouth to her throat. "I don't think you've ever called me that before," he murmurs against her skin, the low vibration of his voice against sensitive, heated flesh sending another shock of desire deep into her belly.

Her fingers rake through his hair, tugging gently at the strands as his kisses become more and more heated. God, she's never wanted anyone this much before. "Of – of course I have," she manages to force out, her eyelids fluttering as his mouth seeks out her rapid pulse, his teeth nipping gently at her skin. "It's your name, isn't it?"

"Mm," he hums softly, and next thing Kensi knows, his quick fingers are deftly undoing the button of her jeans. The zipper comes next, and Kensi swears the sound alone is enough to spark the fiery tension between them. "Must be something you only say in your dreams, then," he quips.

She wants to laugh because it's such a Deeks thing for him to say – cocky, playfully arrogant, so sure of just how much he affects her. Thing is, he's not wrong. He's not and she's painfully certain that he knows it – how can he not, with the way he's got her trembling and squirming with just a few practiced touches, a few deliberate kisses.

So affected, she can't even find her voice to reply as his mouth begins to glide down her sternum, leaving her skin burning in its wake. His fingertips dance their way up her sides and around her back, feeling the goosebumps that rise upon her skin at his touch. Gently, he nudges her upward, just enough for his fingers to find the clasp of her bra. He hesitates for a second, though, his gaze locked with hers until she gives a slow, silent nod.

She's not sure where her bra ends up as his heated mouth returns to her skin and really, she can't bring herself to care. Her palm finds the nape of his neck, her nails scratching gently, drawing a low, rumbling groan from his lips.

His strong, masculine hands begin pushing at her jeans, sliding the denim down her long legs with a bit of help from her. She can't help it anymore; she wants him, and she doesn't care if he knows it and teases her forever about it. She just wants him as close to her as he can be. Once she's freed, Kensi hears the soft thud as her jeans hit the ground below, and suddenly, it hits her that this is happening – she's here, in his bed, in nothing more than a slinky pair of panties and dammit she wants his mouth on hers again but he's having none of it.

She reaches for him, his shoulders, his hair, anything, but Deeks shrugs her touch away, a smirk playing at his lips as he moves lower, lower. "Oh my God," he breathes, pressing a kiss to her hipbone. "All this time, underneath that tough exterior, Badass Blye wears lace? Are you trying to kill me?"

Heat floods Kensi's cheeks; she squirms as the warmth of his breath teases her skin. "You – you knew," she points out, barely able to find her voice. "You did my laundry for a month…"

"Yeah, but…" Almost reverently, he traces a single fingertip along the upper hem of her panties, cataloguing the sight of her to memory because this – Kensi Blye, naked save for a pair of black, lacy panties, skin flushed and hair tousled, trembling beneath his touch in his bed…yeah, definitely something he wants to remember until the day he dies. "There's a huge difference between seeing them in the washer…and seeing them on you."

And taking them off you, his mind adds silently. He dares not voice the thought, lest it break what simply must be a dream.

Kensi's breath catches in her throat as Deeks presses a slow kiss to her belly, just above the lacy edge of her panties, his scruff scratching gently against her skin. One kiss becomes two, and in no time his mouth is playing almost lazily upon her flesh, leaving her muscles fluttering beneath his lips. "So sexy," he breathes, hooking his thumbs in the lace and Kensi can't help but moan quietly. There's just something about his voice, something about his tone that just does things to her and at the moment, she's not sure what's turning her on more – the progressive intimacy of his kisses, or the sound of his voice, low, guttural, dripping with seduction.

She thinks he could ask for anything right now, and she'd gladly give it.

By the time his jeans are gone, Kensi's not sure how much more she can take. The desperate pace of earlier seems to have been left behind with her shirt in his living room; now, he's taking his sweet time, peppering her entire body with kisses from the hollow of her throat to the swell of her breast to the intimate, flushed skin of her inner thigh and as badly as she'd needed him before, she needs him just as badly now…but it's a different kind of need. There's an ache in her chest, deep in her heart and she knows beyond the slightest shadow of doubt that she could never, ever wake up in the morning and pretend that this is just sex, that they're just two coworkers blowing off some steam after work, that she can just walk away and they can go back to being partners after this is out of their systems.

No.

And really, she thinks part of her realized that long before she ever made the decision to stand from the table tonight.

If she's honest, she's wanted him for months.

She wants this more than anything.

She wants to hate him for doing this to her.

For making her fall for him.

Damn him.

With all the strength she can muster, Kensi reaches for his defined biceps, slowly tugging him upward. "Get up here, Deeks."

"So I'm Deeks again," he teases, pressing kisses to random patches of skin on his way up.

She rolls her eyes, but then he's hovering above her again, the look in his dark blue eyes going straight to her core. "Shut up," she growls, fisting a hand in his hair, pulling him in for a fierce kiss (God, she can't get enough of his lips on hers).

"Greedy," he breathes against her lips.

She doesn't bother with a verbal reply. Instead, she traces her palms down the muscular contours of his back, loving the feel of him beneath her touch. When her fingertips find the hem of his boxers, Deeks presses his hips into hers and Kensi can't help but bite gently at his lip. She can feel him against her, separated only by two layers of thin fabric; so, so close and God, it's enough to turn her into a quivering, whimpering mess beneath him. The friction is too much yet not enough and he's driving her insane. She can't breathe, can't think, all she can do is kiss him with fervor, with desperation, lost in the haze of desire, knowing she'll utterly combust if she doesn't have him inside her now.

It's mere moments before they're fully naked against each other, left with the blissful feeling of flesh against heated flesh. Kensi rocks her hips, feeling him between her thighs, so close yet so far and she whimpers, desperate. "Deeks…please…"

"It feels so good to hear that," he murmurs against her mouth, drawing a moan from somewhere deep within her soul. "Do you have any idea how long I've wanted you?" Kensi shivers hard underneath him, and with one last deep kiss, Deeks rests his forehead against hers, waiting for her dark eyes to flutter open and meet his. When they do, Deeks swears he falls even farther in love with her because what he sees there…he can't put it into words. "Tell me you want this too," he breathes, despite already knowing the answer. "Tell me you won't regret this. Tell me…tell me you want me as much as I want you."

Kensi breathes in deeply, letting his scent fill her completely; when she exhales, it's shaky, carried on the hint of a quiet whimper. Her tongue traces gently over her freshly-kissed lips; just the lingering taste of him is enough to sweep her past the point of no return…but if she's honest, she's been too far gone for a very long time. "God I want you," she breathes, clutching to him as if fearful he might disappear if she lets go. "I want you more than I ever –"

Deeks can't help it – he kisses her mid-sentence, reveling in the soft moan that reaches his ears. And then as he slowly (God, so slowly) pushes inside of her, bringing them together for the first time, as their bodies move together with nothing less than perfect harmony, there are no more heavy words – just whispered names, whimpered pleas; quiet moans and sighs filling the space between them. She clutches to him, rocking her hips with his, meeting his every thrust and when the climax finally washes over her like a breaking wave, leaving her trembling and crying out for him, all the reasons why she'd convinced herself this was a bad idea suddenly no longer matter.

It doesn't matter that they're partners in the field everyday; it doesn't matter that even though there's no rule forbidding this, it's still likely frowned upon; it doesn't matter that this could change everything between them. It doesn't matter that Kensi had sworn that this was a line she'd never cross; that it's a line Deeks had sworn never to cross again.

All that matters right now, is this. Them.

And that's all they need. That's enough.

She's still sleeping as he pulls a new shirt over his head, strands of blonde still damp from the shower. He'd awoken early with a text from Ops – Hetty had requested to speak to him about an hour before all the others were due to be there. He's got no clue what it could be (unless she wants to take something else away from him…Deeks is still angry over losing the motorcycle he'd bought) but he's learned that the best way to survive is to never, never, ever ignore a summons from Hetty.

It had killed him to pull himself from bed, to let go of her.

And now, he knows it's going to kill him to walk away from her, even if only for a few hours. The sight of her right now is enough to tug at his heart – tousled hair upon his pillow, bare shoulders peeking out from the blankets. She looks like she belongs there in his bed, and just the thought has him pressing back a quick burst of desire. God, she's beautiful, he thinks.

As he'd gazed down at her with sleepy cerulean eyes, he hadn't been able to stop the smile that crept across his lips. In sleep, Kensi Blye looks a little less tough and a little more innocent, and if Deeks could slip back beneath beneath those covers and wrap his arms around her again, dozing off as he nuzzled gently in her hair, God, he'd do it. He'd give anything for that.

With a sigh, he tears his gaze away from her and to the clock on the bedside table – he needs to be going. Deep in the pit of his soul, he knows he should wake her. He knows enough about her past with Jack to know that if she wakes alone, he could lose her forever. At the same time, though, he can't bear to wake her; he can't bear to disturb what few moments of peace she might have. He can't. He just can't, and his stomach churns with acidic indecision, knowing that whatever he chooses will have consequences today.

For a few more moments, he lingers. And then finally he makes his decision. Crossing quietly to the nightstand, Deeks retrieves an old LAPD pen and a notepad, then scribbles out a quick note. It's not enough, he knows, but at least it's better than nothing.

Hey –

No, I'm not running out from my own place. And no, I'm not running from you. If I had my way, I'd still be here. Hetty apparently had other plans though – I didn't want to wake you, wanted to let you sleep in a bit more. I made coffee, and I'll be at Ops when you get there – I'll be waiting with doughnuts. I'll see you then.

He pauses, biting his lip as he contemplates what he wants to say to her. If it were up to him, he'd scream his feelings from the rooftops. He's known Kensi for long enough to know how her mind works, though; though it kills him to think about it, he knows it's possible her feelings under the cover of night might be entirely different from what's illuminated in the morning sun. Maybe, he thinks, maybe it's best not to say too much now until they talk, until he's sure of where they stand.

I know we need to talk about things, but last night meant the world to me. Even though I'm not going to be here when you wake up, I'll be here tonight. And I hope you'll be here with me.

With that, Deeks gently folds the note and tucks it underneath her phone on the nightstand, the one place he knows she's sure to see it. And then, unable to help himself, he leans down over her, brushing dark strands back from her face with a smile upon his.

He presses a quick kiss to her bare shoulder and then to her temple, reveling in the soft sigh that escapes her lips.

And then, with silent hope that this doesn't prove to be the last time he sees her in his bed, Deeks takes a deep breath and forces himself to go.

(He prays she doesn't hate him when she wakes.)